


Not Far From the Tree

by a_silver_sun



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Catholic, Gen, New York City, Orphange, Walking, lots of walking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:55:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26195251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_silver_sun/pseuds/a_silver_sun
Summary: Matthew may have aged out of St. Agnes Orphanage but he still had a home there.
Relationships: Matt Murdock/Karen Page (implied)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 28
Collections: Daredevil and Defenders Exchange 2020





	Not Far From the Tree

**Author's Note:**

  * For [djinnj](https://archiveofourown.org/users/djinnj/gifts).



> For djinnj!!  
> Prompts:  
> -Getting there from here (crossing Central Park, or Times Square, or the Manhattan Bridge, or some other NYC landmark)  
> -Matt Murdock and the apple not falling far from the maternal tree.
> 
> There’s discussion of Immigration, but it isn’t the main focus of the story. Also, I am not a Catholic nor am I a New Yorker. Though I have walked my fair share through the city as a tourist. If anything is inaccurate, please feel free to drop a line.

Outside the entrance of St. Agnes School and Orphanage sat a long folding cafeteria-style table. Behind it stood one teenager and one seven-year-old, who had been spending the cool autumn afternoon selling an array of baked goods, as well as coffee, hot chocolate, and an assortment of teas.

The girls were raising money to help a young family, María and David Echevarría, and their infant child Gabriela, who sought sanctuary with Clinton Church, with which the orphanage was connected. The church promised to help relocate the family to a new home and a new life where they can start over and create a fresh start for themselves.

Maggie prayed for them every day they were here.

Of course, the church, as an institution, had the means to provide for the family during their stay and beyond; the fundraiser had been the idea of young Miss Genesis Johns who herself had only just recently arrived at the orphanage after the loss of her entire family, which consisted of a single mother who had been a regular here at the church. Sister Maggie thought it a wonderful suggestion for the small, quiet girl to propose - it showed a resourcefulness and resilience that would see her through these dark times, and Maggie knew well that a good way to help and heal yourself was to extend a helping hand to others.

The older girl, of course, pounced at the opportunity to run a table selling baked goods for a good cause, and perhaps the chance to get out of Saturday Afternoon chores. Cristina liked the smaller girl, took her under her wing a bit, but Maggie knew that in all likelihood, she saw something of herself behind those dark, sad eyes. 

This was an orphanage, after all, and none of the children had come here by choice or because their lives were spilling over with joy and happiness.

They did what they could, the Sisters and the new priest. But Maggie’s years of experience heading an orphanage told her that unless and until the children were adopted out to a loving family, they would end up largely looking after themselves.

“Hello, Sister!” Cristina and Genesis said.

And Maggie nodded at them. “Girls.”

At the table stood a young man who was mindlessly twirling a collapsed white cane in his left hand while conversing with the children. It was apparent the young man had been chatting with the girls for quite some time, but Maggie wasn’t concerned; this particular young man was well known here at the church and in fact, had been raised here at this very orphanage.

“Matthew,” Maggie said, and Matthew smiled warmly at her and tipped his head in acknowledgment. 

Matthew Murdock was a handsome young man, a successful attorney, and, as fate would have it, Maggie’s only child.

Shamefully, the truth of his parentage had only been revealed to him very recently, well into his adulthood. And as unfortunate as it was, all those years of lies and secrecy took a toll on their relationship, such as it was. She and Matthew had been through a whole hell of a lot in the past year since his discovery of the truth; they’ve gotten to know one another better, but the sad truth was that the foundation of their relationship had been shoddily laid, and so the ground on which they stood remained shaky and unstable.

So to see Matthew here, conversing with the children, reconnecting with, and perhaps coming to terms with his own upbringing, soothed some long-buried part of her soul. Gave her hope that perhaps there was space in their lives still for a new foundation on which to rebuild.

“Mr. Murdock bought three cupcakes, but he hasn’t picked them out yet. And he said he’ll help Maria and David and Gabbie!” Genesis excitedly explained.

Maggie raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Is this so?” 

“I thought it would be nice to surprise Karen and Foggy with something sweet,” Matthew sheepishly explained. A small smile played on his lips, which told Maggie that he knew full well he hadn’t actually answered Maggie’s question.

Genesis giggled at his response, or perhaps at Maggie’s withering look of disapproval, there was no way to be sure, and Cristina responded with a small, “aw,” and a soft, dreamy expression. Maggie suppressed a small smile at that. Matthew did as well.

“Chris, what was it called again?” Genesis asked Cristina.

“ _Pro Bono_ ,” Cristina promptly answered, trying to impress the handsome young lawyer, no doubt, and Maggie inhaled sharply as she realized the extent of what Matthew was offering. 

“You got it,” Matthew said. He tilted his head toward Cristina in such a way that the warm afternoon sunlight glinted off his dark red sunglasses which gave the impression of a playful and knowing wink. It was a very charming trick.

Cristina blushed, and Maggie gently touched Matthew’s forearm. “You’re doing God’s work,” she said by way of a thank you, but Matthew waved her away.

“No, I’m just--” There was a weight, a heaviness to the pause in Matthew’s words. He shook his head. “I just want to help people.”

“Me too!” Genesis said.

“That’s good. It’s good to help when you can. Especially when things are--” He shook his head again. “It’s good to help people,” he repeated.

Before anyone could respond, a young man named James Shannon approached the girls’ bake sale table. James was tall, with a head of long, curly hair, and he too had been one of the many children raised here at St. Agnes. Today James owned a business here in Hell’s Kitchen selling used and new vinyl records, which James assured her was thriving. She didn’t know much about modern technology, but she would have assumed the medium outmoded. Which, according to James' son, Joseph, was exactly the appeal.

“Matt Murdock,” James greeted, and Matthew dutifully shook his hand.

“Jimmy,” Matthew politely responded. Maggie recalled animosity between the boys growing up, but maturity, it seemed, did wonders.

“Sister,” James greeted with a small tilt of the head. Then he very obviously scanned the table’s offerings. “I heard there’s goodies here,” James said, and the girls immediately straightened out their postures. “What would you like?” Cristina asked, and Maggie and Matthew took that as their cue to step aside and move out of the way.

“What you’ve offered -- it’s incredibly generous. We’re very--” Maggie started, but once again Matthew waved away her concern.

“I’d like to see the Echevarría family as soon as possible,” Matthew said, getting straight to business. “Go over the details of their case.”

Maggie nodded, and the two of them spent the next several minutes hammering out the details.

Afterward, Maggie said, “I’ll get you a container to carry your cupcakes,” remembering Genesis’ earlier comment about Matthew’s purchase. 

Matthew’s laugh was genuine and hearty. “I’ll need it to soften the blow when I tell Foggy we’re taking on yet another _pro bono_ case,” he said. And on that note, Maggie headed inside. The lawyers’ financial woes were none of her business.

The following Saturday morning, Matthew and his law partner, Franklin, stopped by the church to discuss legal matters with the Echevarría family. 

Matthew explained the importance and sanctity of the relationship between an attorney and client, which in her understanding held similar weight to that of a priest and confessor. And so Maggie made it a point to make herself scarce the moment the pair of lawyers arrived at the church. 

As always, there was laundry to be done, but with the church basement now serving as a makeshift law office, Maggie decided to sit in her favorite pew and pray.

After a while, a man’s voice wafted over her head, and Maggie was deep enough in prayer that she did not startle at the intrusion. Much. “I hope I’m not disturbing you,” the man said, who of course, was Matthew.

Maggie slid aside to make room on the pew, and Matthew obliged after she patted at the now-vacated seat.

“Of course you bothered me, otherwise you wouldn’t have suggested it.”

Matthew had the good sense to look abashed.

“How did things go with the Echevarrías?”

“Fine, things went fine,” Matthew said, and Maggie realized he meant he was honoring his clients’ privacy by refraining from speaking too freely about their case.

“That’s good,” she responded carefully, and Matthew’s grin was a pained one.

“I mean, immigration isn’t my area of expertise…”

Maggie was about to say something along the lines of, “Well, your efforts are greatly appreciated,” but Matthew seemed to anticipate that sort of response.

“But I think we have a good case.”

“Good,” she said. “I’m glad to hear it.”

Then several long moments passed before either one spoke.

“How are the--”

“--When are you--”

Maggie and Matthew both chuckled awkwardly. “You--”

“--No, you first,” Matthew said, but the silence between them grew greater still.

“I was going to ask how the girls were,” he finally said. 

“The girls?”

“Gennie and Chris. From the bake sale.”

Maggie didn’t want to delve into the girls’ personal lives too much without their consent, so she simply said, “They’re fine,” and left it at that.

“Yeah, good,” Matthew answered. The grip of his familiar white cane rested over his left shoulder while he tapped its well-worn and scuffed tip against the toe of his shoe. “That’s good. Um. What were you going to say.”

“Oh. I wanted to know when you were available next.” Maggie said.

“To see the Echevarrías?”

Maggie shook her head. “No, something else. I’d like to borrow you some time if that’s all right.”

Matthew tilted his head toward her, chin aimed slightly to the right. “I’m available now,” he said, articulating it almost as a question. (“I’m available now?” as if he were searching for approval, for the correct thing to say. It broke Maggie’s heart a little to hear it, though she would never be able to say why.) “Though, I would have guessed I was a little past the age of chore-duty.”

“I would like to think my spending time with my grown son was anything but a chore,” she said, and she meant it as a playful admonishment, but Matthew’s face sobered considerably.

“It’s why I’ve been stopping by more often.”

“I know,” she said. And it was true, he had been coming to the church more often. And lately accompanied by Karen Page. Maggie was curious if this held any significance, but curiosity would have to take a back seat to propriety, and so she kept her musings to herself. “How does next Saturday sound to you.”

“I can come by in the morning. Eight, nine o’clock?”

“Nine-thirty,” she answered decisively and rose from the pew. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a very large mountain of laundry to tend to.”

“Need a second pair of hands?” he asked, and she accepted the offer graciously. As it turned out, a St. Agnes’ Kid was never too old for chores.

The morning was cool and crisp and Maggie stood outside the church entrance, waiting for Matthew to arrive. It wasn’t long before she spotted him making his way toward her, sweeping his cane in a wide arc across the uneven sidewalk. Maggie observed a young couple who had been holding hands part ways as they passed him, only to immediately reconnect on the other side as if Matthew were an obstruction, a sharp, protruding stone and the young couple a flowing stream.

Today he was dressed down from his usual business attire. Clad in well-worn jeans, a t-shirt under a light jacket and sturdy, comfortable-looking boots, he looked perfect for a long day of walking. 

“Sister,” Matthew greeted through a small, playful smirk. 

She ignored the teasing formality and instead offered him a warm good morning and a friendly hello.

In return, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders for a quick embrace. It was a little awkward and not only because of their difference in size (Matthew was much taller and broader than she was, though, in all honesty, this was true of most people) but she appreciated it nonetheless. Then, he gently took hold of Maggie’s hand and spun on the ball of his foot so that they were facing the same direction he had just come from. 

“Anyplace in particular in mind?” Matthew asked as they began their journey.

“Yes,” she cryptically answered, and left it at that.

“All right,” Matthew said, but he knew this city perhaps better than anyone. Chances were good he would figure it out before very long. 

As she and Matthew walked, they deftly avoided an area of the sidewalk sectioned off for construction, seamlessly moved aside as a teen passed them on a bike, said hello to a mail carrier, and briefly congregated with about a dozen other people at the street corner before crossing busy 9th Avenue and continuing onward down West 49th.

“Are we headed toward Broadway?” Matthew guessed. “It’s a little early to catch a matinee.”

“You’re right. It’s not that.”

“Hm. I’ll figure it out.”

“I know you will. Where we’re going isn’t that far.”

“And you probably know I try to avoid Times Square if I can.” 

“Too crowded,” Maggie agreed easily, “Though I have to admit the place I have in mind isn’t any less touristy.”

“Good thing it’s still early,” Matthew said. 

“We don’t have to stay long if you’d prefer.”

“I think I have an idea where we’re going.”

“You do,” Maggie agreed.

And when they swung left onto 8th, Matthew said, “Not Rockefeller Center, either then.” Snapping his fingers, he added, “Crushed my hopes and dreams.” 

“We can go when they reopen the skating rink, if you’d like,” she teased. “But only if you’re a good boy and do all your homework.” 

Matthew’s grin was a playful one. “You joke, but I more or less do nothing but homework for a living.”

“And, I imagine, this is true for María and David as well.”

“It’s a lot of paperwork,” he agreed. “But that’s what I’m here to do. To help people navigate those kinds of legal complexities.” He rubbed at his stubble. “It’s good you’re helping, too.”

Well,” she said through a half-smile. “It’s not chaining myself to hazardous power plants in protest, but we all do what we can.” 

They walked under scaffolding. Dodged a teen on a skateboard. When they passed an otherwise unremarkable liquor store, Matthew casually commented that a robbery had happened there only a few nights before. “Oh,” Maggie said and refrained from asking how he came to know that. 

After a while, Matthew said, “I meant to ask. How was it you managed to get away for the day? I can’t imagine there’ll be less work to do once you get back.”

“There’s always work to be done. Including making up for lost time.” 

“I’d like to think my spending time with my mother was anything but a chore.”

“I deserved that,” she said. 

“I think you did, too.”

Matthew continued to pretend he had only the vaguest idea of where they were headed, but the feigned ignorance grew less and less believable as they drew closer to the park. Especially once they crossed into Columbus Circle. 

“We can sit for a minute,” Matthew said, gesturing toward the solid wood benches and water fountains that encircled the Columbus Monument.

“I am on my feet all day long,” she said. “A half-hour walk through the city is no hardship.”

“Okay,” Matthew said, stretching the word out to express his extreme skepticism. Though Maggie had to admit that a brief rest next to a babbling fountain sounded very soothing.

But they continued on, crossing into the park through the Merchant’s Gate. 

A teen she didn’t recognize shouted, “Hey, Sister!” from in front of the USS Maine Monument, and her friends laughed immediately after, perhaps having put her up to some kind of dare.

She smiled politely and turned around to find Matthew missing.

No, not missing. In front of a pretzel cart, conversing with the man operating it.

She scowled and met him there.

“I’m not interested in anything--”

(“No snacks before lunch, you’ll ruin your appetite,” she almost said instead, and thank goodness she didn’t. She had no right to tell Matthew what to do; he wasn’t one of her -- He was a full-grown adult.)

“-- too salty,” she finished blandly.

But then Matthew pulled out his wallet and the man behind the cart passed him two bottles of ice-cold water.

“It’s good to stay hydrated,” he explained as the two men completed the transaction.

Well, there was no good argument against that, so she nodded and accepted the bottle with gratitude.

They walked along the quiet, tree-shaded path for several peaceful minutes. Then, Matthew used the tip of his cane to point at a bench a little way ahead.

She didn’t say anything in response; she simply exhaled through her nose. She didn’t need to rest --

But Matthew looked smug at her wordless protest. 

“If you’re in such a desperate need for a break, you should have spoken up sooner,” she said, just for the satisfaction of seeing that smug expression melt into something a little more indignant.

Maggie and Matthew sat on a bench in the shade. The air here was cool, and they sipped their water in silence. 

Maggie watched a pair of children chase each other. A young man jogged by. After that, a young woman with a very small dog strolled by.

After a while, she capped her drink and clasped her hands together.

Matthew’s lips pressed together. 

“I’m sorry--”

“--I wish--”

Neither one laughed this time, though.

“Dad would take me to the zoo sometimes,” Matthew said.

“I know--”

Matthew shook his head. “We took the bus most times, but we walked sometimes too, just like we’re doing today.”

Maggie didn’t know what to say, so she didn’t say anything.

“I wish we could have--”

“Matthew.”

“No, you had to do what you needed to. I mean, I get it. Okay, I know it isn’t exactly the same, but I know what it’s like when you can barely take care of yourself let alone take care of the people you--”

He breathed out forcefully. “I push people away. I know a lot of it has to do with Stick, but--”

“But not all of it.”

“There’s--” He shook his head. “It’s not my-- there’s something--” 

“Have you spoken to the new priest?”

“Shockingly, this isn’t a-- okay, no, technically it is, but--” Matthew chuckled. Whatever words he was trying to spit out were tripping up his tongue too much. And this was a man who used his words for a living.

Well, they could come back to whatever was on his mind in a minute. Right now, it seemed a slight distraction was in order. “One year,” Maggie began, “the orphanage raised enough extra money to rent a van to take all you kids on a day trip to an apple orchard upstate. Do you remember it?”

Matthew’s laugh was watery. “God, I forgot all about that.”

“Well, I didn’t.”

“Oh, no.”

“A small handful of children broke away from the group, including you, though, at the time, none of us could figure out how.”

There was the knowing smirk.

“By the time we caught up with you kids, do you know what we found you doing?”

“I think I can guess.”

“I think you can do more than guess.”

“Okay, but just remember. We’re well past the statute of limitations on this.”

“If that helps you sleep at night,” she teased.

“It does.”

She continued: “About three or four children were gathered around one of the apple trees because one of the boys had climbed it.”

“To be fair, I was thirteen and all limbs.”

“You were showing off.”

“They thought it would be funny to bully the blind kid up a tree, get him to toss apples down to them. It just didn’t go the way they expected.”

“Yes,” Maggie said, with no small amount of disapproval. “And if I recall, it was James Shannon who bore the brunt of your aerial assault.”

“Kids are assholes.”

"Are we talking about you or him.”

Matthew opened his mouth. Moved it around wordlessly, then tipped his head toward her. “Yeah,” he conceded. “You're right. I mean, Jimmy was a bully, but.”

“And you were a perfect little angel.”

“I got into a lot of fights.”

“I was there too you know. This is not news.”

“No, I know. I mean, I’m still getting into fights.” Which Maggie pointedly did not comment on.

They were both quiet after that. And then Matthew tried again. “There’s--”

“If you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to.”

“No, I know,” Matthew said. “The thing is, you’ll hear about it soon enough. It’s just. It isn’t my place to say. Not yet, anyway.”

“Oh,” Maggie said. She had a pretty good idea of what was going on.

“Yeah,” he said. “And I’m pretty fuh-- Terrified. I'm terrified.” A shake of the head, then: “Sorry. I realize I’m talking to the wrong person.”

“You’d be surprised,” she said. “I do run an orphanage.” She paused. “I know it’s not the same thing.”

He shook his head. “Okay, well, we don’t want to burn the day away sitting here. Onto the zoo?”

“Who said anything about the zoo?”

"I mean, I know about the day-passes."

Maggie tried not to look scandalized. 

The following Saturday, Matthew and his law partner, Franklin, arrived at the church for their appointment with the Echevarría family. Karen Page arrived with them, too, although she didn’t sit in with the lawyers for the meeting. Instead, she followed Maggie into the church and sat beside her on the pew.

“I was wondering if I could talk to you about something,” Karen said. 

“Some of the girls here are holding a bake sale this afternoon,” Maggie said. “Would you like to go outside and meet them in a while?”

“Oh,” Karen said, sounding surprised. Then: “Yes, I’d like that.”

“Good,” she said. “Now, tell me. What’s on your mind.”

-the end-

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!! <3


End file.
